


The First Time I Tried

by restless (cabinfever)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinfever/pseuds/restless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn couldn’t help but kiss Liam that time they were messing around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Time I Tried

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on the famous Ziam kiss. Enjoy. :)

“Meet up for breakfast tomorrow, yeah?” Louis asked as he retreated to his hotel room with Harry in tow. The two of them were sharing a room, once [again](http://ziambromancing.tumblr.com/post/36621610581/the-first-time-i-tried).

Niall rubbed his stomach with a grin. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replied, “though I may end up just grabbing a quick midnight snack later on.”

Zayn grinned. Niall was such a weirdo. “You know, I don’t understand  how you can fit so much food in that little leprechaun body of yours,” he scoffed, hitting Niall over the head.

The Irishman shoved back good-naturedly. “Luck of the Irish,” he informed Zayn with a wide smile. “Night.” The blond disappeared into his own single-bed hotel room, promptly shutting the door and leaving Zayn in the hallway.

Zayn sighed wearily – living 24/7 with four other lads wasn’t easy – and walked a few paces down the hall to his and Liam’s shared room. That was the usual sleeping arrangement, since the boys had sort of paired off in certain ‘best friend’ groups, with Niall keeping his own room since he was up till all hours, ordering room service and strumming quietly on his guitar. Zayn loved sharing with Liam; the other boy was cheeky and down-to-earth, and just…Liam.

He liked Liam.

A lot.

He patted his pockets, searching for his room key. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, almost not finding it. He reached into his back pocket and found it wedged between his phone and a small wad of banknotes. He slipped the card into the door and shoved it open, greeted by the sight of a very shirtless Liam.

The younger boy looked up with a grin, hands still busy folding his plaid shirts and placing them in the suitcase on top of his bed. “There you are!” he greeted Zayn. “I was wondering when you’d be able to get back. Had a few drinks, did you?”

“A few,” Zayn echoed, unable to help himself as his eyes wandered over the curving arc of Liam’s back as he bent over the bed to reach for an out-of-reach pair of jeans. “Packing?”

“Stupid question,” Liam replied. “Of course I’m packing, donut. We’re leaving for France bright and early tomorrow.” He zipped up the suitcase and flopped down on the bed, curly hair falling into his face as he looked up at Zayn. “You haven’t packed, have you?” he asked incredulously.

“I’ve been busy!” Zayn protested, trying valiantly to not look at Liam’s chest.

“Drinking,” Liam snorted.

“Whatever,” Zayn muttered, pulling his cigarettes out of his own – regrettably – empty suitcase. “I’m going to go have a smoke.”

Maybe it was just a platonic feeling, Zayn reflected as he sat on the balcony of the hotel room, inhaling the familiar caustic smoke. Maybe he just admired Liam as a friend or a brother or whatever. Because Liam wasn’t gay. And neither was Zayn.

Right?

Zayn groaned and angrily took another drag at his cigarette. He hated not feeling in control of his emotions and what he was feeling for Liam was just so screwed up. It would ruin their friendship, their band; their lives.

Maybe he was just having a little puppy-love crush phase, Zayn concluded. He wasn’t gay. Yes, he thought to himself with a grin, puffing out a smoke ring that floated out into the sky of the city. He might have a little crush on Liam, but it meant nothing.

Feeling immensely satisfied with himself, Zayn put out the cigarette and walked back into the hotel room. Liam was sprawled out on the couch, flicking through the channels on the television aimlessly. Zayn hopped over the back of the couch and landed on top of Liam’s soft sock-clad feet. “I’m back, Leeyum!” he cried aimlessly, grinning like a fool because that was who he was to Liam. The silly best friend.

“Done smoking for the night?” Liam asked.

“Done.”

They sat in near-silence for a little while, the quiet broken only by the occasional flicker of a show as Liam stopped on the channel for a brief second to see what was on. When Liam passed by a certain program, however, Zayn looked indignantly over at the Wolverhampton boy. “Power Rangers, Liam!” he cried. “You skipped it!”

“I did?” Liam asked, looking quite pleased with himself. He continued to flip through the channels, however.

Zayn hit Liam on the knee. “You did that on purpose!” he accused.

“I did nothing of the sort,” Liam insisted solemnly, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Give me the remote!” Zayn growled, leaping over Liam’s legs and tackling the younger boy.

“Never!” Liam retorted, holding the remote control up and behind him, out of Zayn’s reach.

Zayn wedged himself between Liam and the couch and shoved off with his arms, pushing Liam off the couch and onto the floor with a loud thud. He crowed with the victory and hopped off the couch onto Liam’s back, pressing the curly-haired boy into the ground. “I’ve got it now,” he purred in Liam’s ear, plucking the control out of Liam’s grasp. He got up from on top of his friend and moved towards the couch, but then Liam lunged from behind him and tackled him to the ground, forcing Zayn onto his back.

Liam threw his entire body on top of Zayn’s, reaching wildly for the remote. “Give it!” he cried, but Zayn threw the remote backwards and grabbed hold of Liam’s flailing wrists, holding his grabbing arms in place.

And suddenly, Liam looked down at Zayn, body pressed flush up against his, his overgrown fringe of dark curls hanging down over his thick eyebrows. Zayn paused in his struggle and realized –

Liam was very,  _very_  close right about then.

His face was just centimeters from Zayn’s, his dark brown eyes quizzical and ready to scuffle some more for control of the TV.

Zayn realized that, honestly, this would probably be his only chance to do what he’d always wanted to do. He decided that if there was any time to go for it, it was now. He lifted his head off of the ground and tentatively pressed his lips against Liam’s full pink ones, abandoning any sense of conscience. He couldn’t help himself; he didn’t think or consider the consequences, he just  _did_.

Liam stiffened above him, his eyes flying wide. But then he seemed to relax and hesitantly returned the pressure, slowly moving his hands to cup Zayn’s face.

Zayn had lost any coherent thought ages ago, because his mind was filled with  _Liam Liam Liam_  and that was all he could think about as he entangled his fingers in the younger boy’s silky brown curls, slowly moving his lips against Liam’s.

And Liam returned the gesture, lips simply moving with Zayn’s, not at all invasive or heated. It was very simple and beautiful, the way that Liam was kissing Zayn, and Zayn wished that it would last forever.

But then Liam pulled away, his eyes widening with regret. He quickly rolled off of Zayn, and Zayn had no choice but to remove his fingers form the Wolverhampton boy’s hair. “Zayn,” Liam said very slowly, like he was dazed. “What was that?”

Zayn sat up very slowly, still hurting inside from the pain of Liam moving away. “I couldn’t help myself, Li,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry, it’s just that…oh, I don’t know, I just kind of maybe really might love you?” He scratched his arm nervously.

Liam’s eyes were confused and sad. “Zayn,” he whispered. “You like me?”

“Yes,” Zayn choked out, feeling extremely mortified. He’d just kissed his best friend. Oh, god, he’d just kissed his best friend in the world and now it was all crumbling down around him.

Liam moved forward slowly and touched Zayn’s hand. “Now, Zayn, I don’t want to be leading you on in any way, shape or form here. I admit, I may like you a little bit too. But I love Danielle, Zayn. And I’m very happy with her. And you don’t deserve to keep on loving me if I can’t love you back. You deserve to be with somebody who will love you back just as much as you love them. And that can’t be with me, Zayn.”

Zayn nodded wordlessly. He couldn’t trust himself to talk right then. He was worried that he might start bawling at the first sound that came out of his mouth. So he just nodded, nodded while Liam broke his heart a thousand times over, told him that the one thing he wanted most in the world wasn’t possible.

“I’m sorry, Zayn,” Liam repeated. “I’m sorry.”

Zayn swallowed. “I’m sorry, too,” he croaked, swiftly standing up and rushing towards his bed, ignoring Liam’s calls for him to come back. He just took all of his clothes and shoved them angrily into his suitcase, determined not to let Liam see his tears.

He promptly jumped into his bed and burrowed under the covers, crying silently and screaming out his anguish in his mind, tuning out any sound of Liam. Zayn didn’t sleep at all that night. He couldn’t stop feeling Liam’s soft lips on his, couldn’t stop the sobs from shaking his whole body.

From then on, Zayn and Niall shared a room.


End file.
